Gesalle Bheidanze moved silently through the depths of the Emerald Forest, each step as light as a whisper on the moss-covered ground. The air was rich with the scent of exotic blossoms and the earthy aroma of ancient wood. Towering emerald trees with crystalline leaves stretched toward the sky, their branches weaving a canopy that filtered the light into shimmering hues of green and gold. The luminescent flora bathed the forest in an ethereal glow, casting dancing shadows as if the woods themselves were alive with secrets.

As she walked, Gesalle extended her senses, scanning her surroundings for mana signatures. Every living being emitted one—a unique imprint of their life energy and magical potential. The forest may appear tranquil, she mused, but danger often hides where least expected. Her attunement to mana had saved her countless times over the centuries. The worst threat she anticipated here would be a wandering warrior; physical combatants who, despite their reliance on brute strength, could be perilous if underestimated.

She paused beside a cluster of luminescent ferns, delicately plucking leaves that would serve as key ingredients in her elixirs. The Elemental Chaos—the fourth plane—was rich with rare herbs and minerals. It was a realm where the elements intertwined chaotically, giving birth to landscapes both breathtaking and treacherous. The Emerald Forest, in particular, was devoid of strong monsters. The ancient trees themselves acted as sentinels, attacking any creature with a strong mana or focus signature. Gesalle was safe here because she had mastered the art of masking her own mana signature, slipping through the forest unnoticed.

A melancholic smile touched her lips as she reflected on times long past. A millennium ago, mere mention of my name inspired fear and reverence, she thought. Now, I must tread carefully, wary of even low-level warriors. The death of the God of Magic had changed everything. With his fall, the balance of power shifted dramatically. Magic users were weakened, their abilities diminished, and they became targets for persecution. The God of War's ascendancy meant that brute strength was now favored over arcane knowledge.

Gesalle sighed softly, the weight of centuries pressing upon her. How far we have fallen, she lamented silently. The world had become a place where she, once a formidable witch feared across planes, had to constantly be on guard.

Her reverie was abruptly shattered by a voice calling out behind her. "Hey there! Excuse me!" Startled, Gesalle spun around, her amber eyes narrowing. She hadn't detected any mana signatures approaching. Impossible, she thought, tensing. Either they are exceptionally skilled at masking their presence, or...

Two figures emerged from behind a cluster of glowing mushrooms. The first was a young man of stocky build, about 5'9", with unkempt dark brown hair that seemed to defy gravity. He wore strange attire—a faded graphic t-shirt depicting a snarling beast beneath an oversized, well-worn hoodie. His sharp green eyes sparkled with a mix of overconfidence and curiosity. Beside him stood another man, taller and leaner, with short brown hair and calm, introspective blue eyes. He appeared cautious, his gaze taking in the unfamiliar surroundings with a mixture of awe and apprehension.

"Sorry to bother you," the first man continued, a wide grin spreading across his face. "I'm Paul Lewis, and this here is my friend, William Amberhall." He gestured enthusiastically toward his companion.

Gesalle composed herself quickly, masking her surprise under a veneer of cordiality. "Greetings," she replied smoothly, her voice carrying a melodic lilt. "I am Gesalle Bheidanze." She studied them intently, searching for any hint of deception. They don't seem like warriors, but one can never be too careful.

"We're a bit lost," William admitted, offering a polite nod. His clothes were simple—an unadorned hoodie and jeans that bore signs of recent wear, dirt staining the fabric from their trek. "We could use some assistance."

Paul stepped forward confidently. "Yeah, we've been wandering around this forest for hours. It's incredible, but we'd appreciate some help finding food and directions to the nearest village."

Gesalle's gaze flickered between them. "It's unusual to encounter travelers here," she remarked, arching a finely shaped eyebrow. "May I ask how you came to be in the Emerald Forest?"

"We're, uh, adventurers," Paul said, puffing out his chest slightly. "Exploring new realms and seeking out challenges. You know how it is."

"Adventurers, you say?" Gesalle's lips curved into a subtle smile. "And what level might you be?" She watched for their reactions, suspecting that bringing up levels might reveal more about them.

"Levels?" William repeated, a hint of confusion crossing his features.

Paul's eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "Well, in terms of experience, I was a max-level warrior back in World of Warcraft!" he announced proudly.

Gesalle tilted her head slightly, her silver-white hair cascading over one shoulder. "World of... Warcraft?" The term was unfamiliar to her. Was it a distant land? A guild?

"It's a realm we're from," Paul explained, mistaking her confusion for awe of his presumed grandeur. "Top of my class, unmatched in combat."

"I see," Gesalle replied thoughtfully. They must be from another realm entirely, she surmised. In her millennia of existence, Gesalle had heard whispers and legends of places beyond the known planes—realms not accessible through any portal or spell she knew. Ancient texts spoke of mysterious 'worlds'—vast, spherical rocks floating in an infinite expanse of darkness, dotted with points of light like distant fires. Such notions were often dismissed by scholars as fanciful myths or allegories. But encountering these two made her wonder if there was truth to the old stories. Perhaps that's why I couldn't detect their mana signatures; they operate under different magic principles.

William glanced at Paul with mild exasperation. "We're actually quite lost," he reiterated to Gesalle. "Our situation is... complicated. Any help you could provide would be greatly appreciated."

"Indeed," Gesalle said, a hint of intrigue in her eyes. "I may be able to assist you. However, provisions and guidance are not without cost." She observed their reactions carefully.

"Of course," Paul agreed readily. "I'm more than willing to compensate you. Unfortunately, I don't have my currency on me right now. But if you could extend us some credit, I can repay you once we reach my home base."

Gesalle's gaze sharpened subtly. Something doesn't match here, she thought. He claims to be a max-level warrior yet lacks basic equipment and currency? "I might be amenable to that arrangement," she said slowly, a calculating tone underlying her words. "However, I would require some assurance."

"Assurance?" Paul echoed, his grin unwavering.

"Yes," she said, her gaze shifting to William. "Perhaps your friend could remain with me as collateral until you return with payment."

William stiffened, a look of alarm crossing his face. "Wait, what? That's not necessary. I'm sure we can find another way."

Paul placed a hand on William's shoulder, his grip firm and almost dismissive. "Relax, Will. It's just a formality. I'll be back before you know it." He turned back to Gesalle, his eyes gleaming with self-confidence. "Agreed. William will stay with you as insurance."

Gesalle's lips curled into a subtle smile. Interesting, she mused. So readily he parts with his companion. "Very well," she replied. She reached into one of the small pouches affixed to the belt around her waist—a pouch that appeared far too small to contain anything substantial. With a graceful motion, she drew out a finely crafted sword. The blade was slender, appearing sharp, and the metal shimmered with an iridescent sheen under the forest's luminescence. The hilt was wrapped in dark leather, and intricate patterns etched along the blade glowed faintly with a soft, azure light.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Paul's eyes widened with astonishment and greed as she offered the weapon to him. "This should serve you until you acquire one more suited to your... abilities," she remarked, a slight hint of irony in her tone. She knew the sword's appearance was impressive, but its quality was subpar—more decorative than functional. Let's see how he handles himself with that.

He accepted the sword eagerly, giving it a few experimental swings. "Much appreciated," he said, clearly enamored with his new possession.

Gesalle then produced another small bag made of supple, dark green leather embossed with delicate leaf patterns. She moved to a nearby bush laden with clusters of vibrant fruits—each orb a deep cerulean hue, speckled with tiny silver flecks. With deft fingers, she plucked several of the fruits and added dried strips of meat wrapped in waxed leaves from yet another pouch.

"Here," she said, handing the filled bag to Paul. "These supplies will sustain you on your journey."

"You're very generous," Paul remarked, adjusting the satchel over his shoulder. "I'll make sure to repay you handsomely."

Gesalle inclined her head slightly. "I'll await your return," she said, pointing gracefully through a gap between the towering trees. "The nearest village is two days' journey east. Follow the path until you reach a clearing with three standing stones, then keep the rising sun to your left. Safe travels."

William watched the exchange with growing unease. "Paul, are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice edged with tension. "Maybe we should just stay together."

Paul waved off his concern. "Don't worry, Will. This is how things are done here. I'll sort everything out, and we'll be on our way." He turned to leave, but not before casting a final glance at Gesalle. "Until we meet again."

As Paul disappeared into the forest, his footsteps fading into the distance, Gesalle turned her full attention to William. He took a step back, instinctively wary.

"Please," William began, his voice tinged with anxiety. "I don't understand what's going on. Let me go with him."

Gesalle's eyes gleamed with a predatory interest. "I'm afraid that won't be possible," she said softly. With a swift, fluid motion, she whispered an incantation. Invisible tendrils of magic coiled around William, binding his limbs. His voice caught in his throat, silenced by the spell. Panic flashed in his eyes as he struggled futilely against the restraints.

She observed him calmly, noting the intensity of his fear. He shouldn't be so affected by a simple binding spell, she thought. Even a novice at his supposed level would resist more than this. There's more to him—or less—than meets the eye.

Gesalle circled him slowly, her fingers trailing through the air as if weaving unseen threads. "You intrigue me," she murmured. "A traveler from a distant realm, unaffected by the mana-rich environment, yet lacking the power one would expect." She tilted her head, examining him like a specimen under a lens. "I wonder what secrets you hold."

William's eyes darted around desperately, his muffled attempts at speech falling silent. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears.

"Don't strain yourself," Gesalle chided gently. "The spell will prevent you from speaking, but you can still listen." She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And I have much to tell you."

She considered her next move. He's helpless, and Paul is gone—assuming he'll return at all. Gesalle doubted the braggart's intentions. His claims didn't match his apparent lack of knowledge and preparedness. But perhaps he would provide entertainment or information later.

"Come along," she commanded, flicking her wrist. The magical bonds compelled William to follow her as she began walking deeper into the forest. The path wound between towering trees whose branches seemed to reach out like skeletal hands.

As they walked, Gesalle's gaze remained forward. "You see, William, I have lived a very long time," she began conversationally. "I've gathered knowledge from countless sources—ancient texts, whispered legends, and the minds of those I've... encountered."

Her voice was soothing yet edged with something cold, something dangerous.

"I've heard tales of worlds beyond our planes," she continued. "Spherical realms floating in the void, where magic is but a myth and strange technologies reign." She glanced back at him, a sly smile on her lips. "Perhaps you come from such a place?"

William's silence was her only answer, but the fear in his eyes spoke volumes.

"I thought so," Gesalle said, satisfaction evident in her tone. "You might hold valuable insights into these other worlds. Knowledge that could prove... advantageous."

They arrived at a small clearing where the ground was covered with soft, luminescent moss that glowed underfoot. In the center stood a stone altar intricately carved with runes that pulsed faintly with energy.

Gesalle guided William to the center, positioning him before the altar. With a graceful gesture, she reinforced the binding spell, ensuring he remained still. "Now, we can begin."

She retrieved a slender, ornate dagger from within her robes—the blade dark as night, absorbing the light around it. "Don't fret," she cooed, tracing the flat of the blade along his cheek. "This won't hurt... much."

Her sadistic nature reveled in the fear that emanated from him. But beyond the pleasure of inducing terror, she was genuinely curious. What secrets lay hidden within this outsider?

She began to chant softly, the words of the incantation flowing like liquid silver from her tongue. The runes on the altar responded, their glow intensifying. Tendrils of energy arced toward William, probing for any latent magic or hidden potential.

To her surprise, the energies recoiled upon contact, dispersing like mist. Gesalle frowned, her eyes narrowing. Curious. He's resistant to mana-based probing. Perhaps his world operates on entirely different principles.

Undeterred, she adjusted her approach. "You are full of surprises," she mused. "No matter. There are other methods."

She reached into another pouch, extracting a small vial filled with a swirling, iridescent liquid. Uncorking it, she held it under his nose. "Breathe deeply," she instructed.

The vapor from the potion wafted toward him. William tried to resist, but the bindings held him fast. As he involuntarily inhaled, his eyes began to glaze over, his consciousness slipping.

"That's it," Gesalle whispered. "Let go."

Moments later, he slumped slightly, though the bindings kept him upright. Gesalle began her questioning anew, this time delving into his mind directly through a combination of psychic probing and subtle enchantments.

Images flickered—strange cities filled with towering structures of glass and steel, vehicles that moved without horses or mana, devices that glowed with artificial light. A world advanced in technology yet devoid of magic.

Fascination and envy stirred within her. So the legends are true. Worlds without magic, yet powerful in their own right. She sought deeper, trying to extract any useful knowledge—perhaps a way to harness their technology, or to bridge the gap between realms more effectively.

But as she probed further, she encountered barriers—natural defenses of his mind. Despite his lack of magical training, his will was strong, fortified by emotions of longing and a profound desire to return home.

Gesalle withdrew, a slight headache throbbing at her temples. "Impressive," she conceded softly. "You're more resilient than I anticipated."

She regarded him thoughtfully. Perhaps breaking him will take more time than I expected. But time is something I have in abundance.

Just then, a rustling in the trees drew her attention. A small, winged creature with iridescent feathers fluttered down, perching on a low branch. It chirped melodically—a sound that usually signified the approach of dusk.

Gesalle realized that night was falling. The Emerald Forest transformed after dark, and even she preferred shelter during those hours.

She waved her hand, and William's bindings shifted, allowing him to walk but still preventing escape or speech. "Come," she instructed. "We must find shelter."

They made their way to a concealed grotto nestled among ancient stones. The entrance was veiled by cascading vines, but inside, the space opened into a cozy chamber illuminated by bioluminescent fungi.

Gesalle guided William to a corner, securing him with a less restrictive spell that allowed him to sit and rest. "We will continue tomorrow," she said, her tone leaving no room for protest.

As she settled across from him, she watched his eyes—still filled with defiance and fear. "You may not understand now," she said quietly, "but your cooperation could benefit us both."

She closed her eyes, entering a meditative state to restore her energies. The forest outside whispered with nocturnal life, a symphony that lulled her into a light trance.

----------------------------------------

Far away, Paul strutted along the path Gesalle had pointed out, the sword swinging at his side. He smirked to himself, pleased with his cleverness. That witch was easier to manipulate than I thought, he mused. And now I have supplies and a weapon. First step to conquering this place.

He glanced back once, a fleeting thought of William crossing his mind. But he shrugged it off. "He'll be fine," Paul muttered. "Everyone has to look out for themselves."

As he ventured deeper into the forest, unknowingly heading in the wrong direction, the shadows seemed to stretch longer, the trees closing in around him. The illusion of control he cherished began to waver as unfamiliar sounds echoed in the darkness.

But Paul's arrogance blinded him to the dangers ahead.

----------------------------------------

Back in the grotto, William tried to steady his racing thoughts. I have to find a way out of this, he resolved. Though he couldn't speak or move freely, his mind was his own.

He thought of home—the simplicity of his life, the people he cared about. A pang of longing surged through him, strengthening his resolve.

I won't be a pawn in her game, he vowed silently. Somehow, I'll escape.

Gesalle stirred slightly, as if sensing his determination, but she did not wake.

The night wore on, each lost in their own thoughts. In the heart of the Elemental Chaos, destinies were intertwining in ways none of them could foresee.

----------------------------------------

The Emerald Forest, ever watchful, bore silent witness to the unfolding drama. Ancient trees whispered among themselves, their roots entwined with the very fabric of the plane. They had seen the rise and fall of countless beings, and knew that the threads of fate were never easily unraveled.